


Leave? What A Foreign Word

by orphan_account



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Canon can suck my ass, Eddie Kaspbrak Flirts, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier One Shot, Established Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, One Shot, Post-Break Up, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Sexual Tension, Short One Shot, their personalities said SWITCH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26205328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Memories that Richie had forced to the back of his head made their way back to the present, images of plush blankets and damp hair and drunk laughter. It had been three years since he’d last seen Eddie, one since he gave up on him, swore to forget him.Yet here Eddie was, back against his door, looking the exact same with the raucous curls and flashing eyes. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the look urging Richie to speak.Richie willed himself to stay quiet and the upturned lips tilted down as Eddie crossed his arms.“I know I shouldn’t be here.”Richie analyzed him slowly, keeping his features placid. “The guards really are no use, are they? Letting you of all people see me.”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 26





	Leave? What A Foreign Word

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this with Rhy and Alucard vibes.

Richie never liked to look in the mirror. 

Of course, it wasn’t the cold gaze he held in the reflection that bothered him, it was what was beneath the surface. 

He could feel the celebration raging under his feet, feel the palace walls shake with music and laughter. He was late and the guests would be waiting, but he couldn’t be bothered. 

The day had been long and weary. All he wanted was a stiff drink but of course, his troubles weren’t shared with anyone else. The weight of the gold on his head was seemingly heavier than usual. He always wondered how his father did it, commanding an entire nation while wearing a crown two times heavier than his own. How he would be able to do it himself one day, he didn’t know.

 _He had mother,_ Richie thought, _and I have no one_.

His mother was the fire to his father's ice, warming his heart. He heard people talk in the streets about how they hadn’t expected his parents to love each other, to stay in love, because they were so different. But they didn’t know his parents like he did, and whenever their eyes met, even if they were furious with each other, they always found a way back to each other. He knew how his father would melt under his mother’s touch, and she was the only one who could. He knew how much his mother would miss her husband when he was gone on a trip, the longing detected in the air like an expensive perfume. There was only one person Richie longed for, and he was gone.

A cold chill brushed on his skin and a colder feeling touched his heart. Something was coming. _Someone_. 

His nerves refused to settle deep in his bones and he hurried his way to the door when a knock came from the other side just as his hand touched the grasp. 

Whoever was at the door didn’t stop and wait for the door to open because they tried to open it _by themselves_ , and would’ve entered the room if Richie wasn’t pushing back on it. 

“You should know that the party is downstairs.”

A low chuckle escaped the other person, amusement in the familiar voice, a voice he never wanted to hear again, a voice he ached to hear again. 

His hand must’ve left the door grasp because the door jostled open and a small shadow of a man entered, features softening in the candlelight of his room. 

Memories that Richie had forced to the back of his head made their way back to the present, images of plush blankets and damp hair and drunk laughter. It had been three years since he’d last seen Eddie, one since he gave up on him, swore to forget him.

Yet here Eddie was, back against his door, looking the exact same with the raucous curls and flashing eyes. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the look urging Richie to speak.

Richie willed himself to stay quiet and the upturned lips tilted down as Eddie crossed his arms.

“I know I shouldn’t be here.”

Richie analyzed him slowly, keeping his features placid. “The guards really are no use, are they? Letting _you_ of all people see me.”

Eddie took a step closer to Richie while he stepped backward, turning his back to the other man. That’s what they were now, _men_ , not naive youths. Three years was a long time, especially for a forthcoming leader. 

The light voice spoke again, echoing in Richie’s ear with every syllable. “I think the only person they would let see you _is_ me. After all, they used to expect it all the time.”

Richie remembered that. He remembered giving specific orders to the guards to dismiss Eddie everytime he would visit and he must have never withdrawn them because the guards did not stop Eddie from coming into his chamber now. 

He could feel Eddie’s eyes rake over him, even with his back turned. Before, they were always loud, always bold. Now, the silence was deafening. 

“ _Rich_ ,” said Eddie, knowing full well the nickname was the death of him. “Please turn around.”

Richie barked out a laugh, not knowing what other sound to make to fill in the silence. 

“What are you doing back here? In the city? In the palace?”

Eddie seemed to hesitate before producing his answer. The words leaving his mouth sounded fake and rehearsed. “My mother is dead, and I’ve come back to the city to honor her.”

A stone dropped in Richie’s stomach, but he wasn’t going to show him mercy.

He swallowed. “What are you doing in the palace?”

Eddie smiled a little. “I’m done honoring her.”

Understanding settled in his throat. The tone in Eddie’s voice signified that he didn’t care, the words meant nothing, which meant Eddie was here for _him_. He felt a familiar pang and twist deep in his stomach that always seemed to show up around Eddie. 

Richie had forgotten what it felt like to be powerless around him. There were over thousands in the city and only one could reduce him to a tense teenager, a fool in love - one smile was all it took for RIchie to forget his own name. Paths first met because Eddie was a noble, paths tangled because Richie was a prince.

The pressure in the air reached a high and Richie tried to ease it by making small talk. “Will you stay for the party?” 

He could feel Eddie wander the lush room, cold air breathing down his neck. The lazy motions felt forced as Eddie took the words in. Richie had asked if he would stay for the party. _But will you stay in the city? Or leave me again?_

Instead of answering the question, Eddie continued his way across his room as if he was searching for something. Maybe for a piece of what Richie used to be. But three years was a long time, and he wasn’t the same person.

He hoped he wasn’t the same person.

After Eddie left, no message, no goodbye, Richie went down a spiral that took him to the darkest places imaginable. The fact that Eddie left didn’t break him, it was because he left without a farewell, a reason for why he ran. Everyday, he thought, was _I just entertainment to him? Was I nothing to him?_ No one knew about their shared nights, no one knew about how Richie had shown Eddie the secret passageways, easier access to the palace during the middle of the night. No one Richie could confide in. 

It became easier to withstand the day after Richie had finally accepted the fact he wouldn’t come back. Slowly, he started looking less like a wounded soul and more like a dignified prince, slowly started forgetting about the boy he used to share his nights and thoughts with.

Now the same boy was standing in his room, mere steps away instead of oceans.

Two steps away. Richie felt a blush creeping up his neck, just like it did whenever Eddie was around.

One step. Eddie was close enough to touch now, the closest they’d been in a long time. He felt his throat close up, words failing to escape his lips.

He could feel a hand lingering on his shoulder blade, making its way up to the crook of his neck and coiling in his unruly hair. The crown on his head seemed to be angling dangerously to the ground. He could feel a second hand taking the gold off, weight lifted from his head. 

The hand in his hair forcingly made his body turn forward, his face now staring right into the dark brown eyes he’d almost forgotten. A teasing smile graced the other’s lips, seeming to taunt him. He could feel the fervor between their two bodies, pressing together. Well, Eddie was pressing onto him. Richie could barely move, his own body pressed against the mirror on the wall. 

Eddie smiled playfully before making a move. His eyes darted to Richie’s lips. He was already leaning in, and Richie found himself doing the same, but he should’ve known that was not what Eddie intended to do because at the last second tugged his hair down, exposing Richie’s neck to his lips. 

He fought the urge to make a noise as Eddie made his way across his collarbone, his warm breath trailing back up to his mouth, this time not misleading him. 

Lips crashed together with the all the quiet force of longing and aching. Richie really couldn’t do anything except tangle his own hands in the other's hair. Absently, he thought, _he grew it out_.

The thought brought him out of the state of euphoria and he untangled his fingers and pushed Eddie off of him.

“Why are you here?” he asked again, now unafraid of the answer he would get.

Eddie pursed his lips, thinking of an answer. “I missed you.”

A light ignited in Richie’s body, and as it grew stronger, he realized it was something he’d never directed towards Eddie. _Anger_ . Glaring at him, still trying to get the taste out of his mouth, he spit out, “Now is a very convenient time to say you _missed_ me, when you’re the one who left!”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know why.” he said, like a statement. 

Richie laughed, a broken sound. He raked a hand through his mussed up hair, where Eddie’s had been just moments before. He looked pointedly at Eddie. “I don’t want to know.”

Confusion flared up in the other’s face. “Why?”

He scoffed. “Because I don’t want to hear the excuses.”

“There aren’t any excuses, if you would just _listen_ -”

Richie held a hand up, silencing him. Thoughts crashed in his mind like waves hitting the sand. He weighed his options and exhaled through his nose. 

“You have five minutes before I leave the room.”

Eddie looked momentarily relieved before his expression took on a wary look. 

“My mother,” said Eddie, spitting the words out. “Found out about us.”

Richie found himself surprised. “Why would that make you leave the city, leave _me_?

“My family has old notions,” he explained, gaze not leaving Richie’s. “When my mother found out where I was spending my days and nights, _who_ I was spending them with…”

He trailed off, gaze unfocused. His hands tangled together, fidgeting. 

“How?”

Eddie’s mouth set in a hard line, although the tips were slanted up in a cruel way, something Richie had never seen before. “She sent one of the servants, whom I trusted, to follow me to the palace, and he followed me back. I couldn’t even lie.”

He began to envision the scene from three years ago. Eddie sneaking out of his bed and not getting caught because Richie was infamous for sleeping fast, and deep. Eddie sneaking out of the palace and back to his home only to find his mother waiting at the front step. 

Still, Richie pressed on. “She forced you to stop seeing me?”

A long pause. “She forced me out of the city.”

The hint of a smile grew into a grimace on Eddie’s pallor face as he remembered the night. “She thought,” he said, “That if I spent a couple years abroad I would _forget_.” He looked at Richie then, pain replaced by softness. “I never did.”

All the anger held in his bones dimmed, ebbing away as the words left his tongue. He’d spent nights awake, wondering what went wrong, what he should’ve done for him to _stay_ , but in the end it wasn’t his doing. In the end Eddie had come back. 

The tension in the room had been at a high-rise, and all Richie wanted was to soften the blow, change the subject. 

Swallowing words he wanted to say, Richie managed a smile. “Well,” he said cheerfully. “Shall we go for the party, or should we bail?”

Eddie must have understood Richie already forgave him - he had always been a quick forgiver, which proved to be generous - and he managed a ghost of a smile in return, brown eyes brightening with a new goal. 

“I think we should stay here.”

With that, he stole one more stride forward, dragging Richie closer to the warmth of his body as the city under them roared with exhilaration, harmonious to the emotion and desire both of them were feeling. Their steps fell in synchronization and they fell onto the bed, silk covers wrinkling at the sudden weight of two people

Richie tore his mouth away, sharing a breath. 

“I missed you.” echoed Richie, remembering what Eddie had whispered moments before. 

The other man smirked as if he already knew, and dragged him back down to the bed with the thrum of festivity surrounding them. 

The last thing Richie felt before surrendering to Eddie’s sway was the knowledge that they would finally be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a scene from the second book of ADSOM, which is one of the best YA series out there. I feel like the personalities don't fit, but you know what, screw that noise.  
> 


End file.
